Pirate Lord of the South China Sea
by Lady Fireflower
Summary: James asked her to go. She wouldn't...not without him. AWE.
1. The Escape

"…that does not absolve me of my other sins."

She looked out to her crew, shimmying along the rope that led to their ship, her ship, and felt something within her…catch.

James Norrington had betrayed her. He had betrayed everything she stood for, everything he himself stood for, when he plotted and schemed and gave the heart of Davy Jones to Cutler Beckett. Even now, perhaps especially now, that betrayal struck deep.

And yet.

Had she not betrayed him? Accepting his proposals of marriage, leading him on, giving him hope when all along her all consuming love for Will had made sure that there was never a hope for the Commodore? Elizabeth had grown up quickly in the past years, quicker perhaps than she should, and the childishness which had pervaded her when she was first taken captive by Barbossa and played with men's hearts so easily was fading fast.

It was time to stop the circle of lies and betrayal. It was time it ended.

"Come with us."

She turned, meeting James' eyes, suddenly turned from sad and resigned to shocked…hopeful. Even after all the time which had passed, all the wrongs between them, he still looked at her like she was worth it all. She could still inspire hope in him. The catch in her chest tightened at that look - it was as though they were back in Port Royal, back to being the 'sensible match' of the town, back to his blind adoration of her. Yet somehow it was also vastly, painfully different because they both knew better than that now.

"Come with_me_."

At the clarification his eyes widened further and she saw him take in a breath that was sharp, disbelieving. However almost as soon as the words were from her mouth a voice called out in the darkness,

"Who goes there?"

He grabbed her, pulled her behind him by the belt around her waist, shielding her with his body. His sword was already drawn and though her eyes skirted the upper deck, looking for the one who'd spotted them, her eyes drifted down almost as quickly as they'd been raised, tracing the line of his jaw, the collar of his coat, small things which she had once been very familiar with in the long hours of polite company and conversation.

"Go. I will follow."

She stopped, eyes narrowing. He didn't look at her as he spoke. She had heard James give orders, deal in pleasantries, speak vile things in the heat of drunkenness, dole out platitudes and heard the voice he seemed to have reserved only for her. Yet this was spoken with none of those in mind. No, the tone in his voice was one she had only recently, painfully, become familiar with.

"You're lying."

He turned, his expression panicked, and she knew instantly she was right. After a moment, his eyes capturing hers and holding her gaze as surely as anything ever had, he seemed to still, to quiet…to become resigned.

"Our destinies have been entwined, Elizabeth…"

He paused and she felt, was terribly, horrifically sure, that this was akin to goodbye.

"…but never joined."

Then he leaned forward, hesitating for only a brief, precious moment, before kissing her. She couldn't say it was a revelation as had been her first kiss with Will on the parapets of Port Royal, nor could she say it tasted of the bitterness her kiss with Jack had held. It was so…James. Sweet and brief and reticent in release.

She opened her eyes the moment his lips lifted and found his face still close, eyes on her as though trying to memorize the details, the intensity of his expression scaring her a little because she had been right; this was goodbye, his goodbye to her.

"Go…now."

It was his voice that made her hesitate, his voice which sounded so much like it wanted to issue an order and yet shook with emotion - because of her. Because he was leaving her as surely as she was him. Elizabeth looked over his shoulder and saw a shadow appearing; they were coming, the crew were coming and they were going to kill James for his betrayal. Kill him because of her. Her jaw stiffened and she reached forward, grasping his upper arm.

"Not without you."

The hesitation on her part was enough. It was enough for the shadow to appear in full, silhouetted form. Her expression must have warned him for James turned, shielding her again with his body as though she were still the young girl with the too tight corset and not a Pirate Lord and Captain.

"Back to your station, sailor."

His voice was stern and yet she, she who had known him for so long, could detect the fear at its base. The fact that she knew in her heart the fear was not for his life but for her own struck hard. Her eyes swerved, trying to find a weapon, anything to defend herself with. There was nothing on deck, nothing not old and worn and covered in seaweed and barnacles. Elizabeth came to settle her eyes back on James' back and an idea emerged. Gently she reached round, hand snaking into the inside of his jacket. She felt him start slightly but he didn't react overtly - for that she was grateful.

James Norrington had been a Commodore, and now an Admiral. Before that a Lieutenant, a Captain and as a child he had been under the tutelage of his father - also an Admiral. James had grown up among sailors, had grown up knowing pirates could attack at any moment - and in part that had fostered his hatred against them. So it was all but a given that he would have more than just his sword to hand, in case of trouble.

"Stand down. That's an order."

James was trying to reason with the crew member but Elizabeth already knew from experience that there was no reasoning with members of Davy Jones' crew. They were mad, all of them mad. Her fumbling continued with renewed purpose and sure enough her hand caught at his waist upon something that was large and metal. Pulling it out slowly she found in her grasp a pistol.

"An order…part of the crew, part of the ship…"

Her mind whirled. One shot, she had a weapon which could be effective but once. Her eyes flicked back to the members of her own crew still climbing across the rope. If she and James were killed her crew would be caught, the rope would be climbed across, her tethered ship once again boarded, the men in her care dead. If she shot the pirate before them attention would be garnered from the rest of the crew and she and James would be dead anyway. There was no way they were getting up on that rope now - that method of escape was gone.

"Steady man!" James shouted, drawing his sword.

Elizabeth looked up from the pistol and saw the pirate advancing, his barnacled, grey face shrouded by shadow and the limp, salt water soaked strands of his long hair. She could not see his face but the hunched shoulders and voice had a note of familiarity…could it be Will's Father? The train of thought was abruptly cut off as the dead man's wild ramblings increased in volume and desperation. A decision had to be made. A decision by her; not just as Elizabeth Swann but as Captain of the Empress, as Pirate Lord of the South China Sea and keeper of her men. The crewman's voice was rising yet further in tempo and volume now, madness evident,

"…part of the crew, part of the ship, part of the crew…"

She pressed close to James, pushing the pistol in his free hand and pressing her mouth to his ear to say clearly, without the possibility of being denied, one clear order from seaman to seaman, from friend to friend.

"Shoot the rope, and jump."

She turned and scrambled up onto the edge of the wooden railing surrounding the deck as a painfully loud, painfully close shot rang out. Her remaining crew screamed as the rope holding them dropped, sending them plummeting into the unforgiving arms of the sea. Amid the cacophony a yell from the pirate cornering them,

"All hands! Prisoner escape!"

Elizabeth looked down and her stomach clenched as she saw James had turned his back to her, was instead trying to hold off the crewman, his blade rising as the other's fell and the voices of other lost souls who made up Jones' crew rose as they sought the source of the commotion…

"James!" she yelled leaning forward and grabbing him, pulling him back towards her with all her strength and only momentum to help her, as the blade of the pirate drove towards his exposed chest.

The scramble however caused her to lose her already precarious footing and gravity did the rest - after a moment's frightened, pointless fight she found herself falling, dragging a terrifyingly limp and heavy James back with her, over the edge of the Dutchman and down, down, down into the black embrace of the sea.

Falling into the ocean was like hitting a brick wall - the impact, painfully tearing her breath from her chest, was terrible and it took several moments of thrashing before she surfaced. The first gasp of air burned her lungs, her eyes stung from the salt water, her entire body felt dull like lead. Yet Elizabeth forced herself to keep afloat.

It was then that she realized that James was not with her.

Panic set in, sharp and intense, as her eyes scanned the area around her. She couldn't see him. He had definitely fallen with her, a glance to the Dutchman showed a small crowd gathering from the point they had leaped but all of them were shadows of the deformed creatures which made up Jones' crew, none of them were James - she would know him. He had been in her grasp as she fell but now was not so the only other option was…

Elizabeth submerged herself, forcing her eyes open against all instinct and searching for a figure in the dark depths. She saw nothing, nothing but shadow broken briefly and barely from lights above. Desperately writhing to and fro in her search her heart sunk lower and lower as the realization came…James was gone. Her lungs felt as though they were about to burst, the Dutchman would be in pursuit, her crew though now loyal had their limits - they would not wait while their Captain searched the sea bed for the man who had been part of their imprisonment and had claimed allegiance to their enemy.

Resigned and with a heavy heart Elizabeth struck for the surface.

Her head broke through to the sound of her own name being shouted. The bellow was desperate but she knew it wasn't the voice of one of her crew calling out. It was that of someone far more familiar.

Spinning messily in the water she came to see James, not feet from her, turning just as wildly as she, shouting out her name.

"James!"

Elizabeth propelled herself towards him even as he lurched towards her. Once within reach she found herself grasped tightly, pulled close to him.

"Dear God I thought you dead!" he said, his voice filled with such relief as was mirrored within her. Though she and James had not been close in years to have known he was alive in the world was a comfort - and to know that still be true, to have him still there, familiar and close and not dead through saving her, was a comfort and, yes, a relief.

"The Empress." she blurted out, looking up fearfully to the Dutchman which was now alive with activity aboard its decks. It would have no commander now…did that mean Jones would take over and reclaim his heart?

"Come on."

He sounded desperate and she had to work herself from his vice like grip so that she could swim towards her ship. To her surprise it was she who reached it first, outpacing him in the water and grabbing hold of the rope ladder which had been let down by her crew. Not so quick to betray her after all they all stood, crowded round the top of the ladder as she climbed. Every so often she glanced back down and if it appeared that James was struggling she put it down to the weight of his wet clothes; heavy with brocade and made from material which weighed when soaked through as they were.

Her crew helped her over the edge and suddenly she was stood on her deck, on her ship…and she was safe. Or as safe as the English, female Captain of a Chinese ship filled with hard, seasoned pirates could possibly be.

"To your stations!" she called out, barely giving herself time to breathe free air as she cast a glance back at the Dutchman, still frighteningly close but strangely not making any moves to retake them, "We head for Shipwreck Cove."

A flurry of activity followed her words and for a moment Elizabeth allowed herself the luxury of watching her men do as she had ordered. After years spent answering to the whims of others having the power to make decisions, to make things happen, was intoxicating.

"So you truly are their Captain."

James' voice drew her to turn. He was stood, a hand against the railing at the edge of the deck, almost supporting himself upright. There was a wry smile on his face but beneath it his skin was ashen, body tense with…something. Then her eyes found his other hand, pressed against his stomach, and the blossoming red against the white of his shirt answered all.

"DOCTOR!" she roared, not turning to the crew, not taking her eyes off James as she surged forward, one hand supporting him at his shoulder while the other pressed over his own, over his wound.

He looked at her then, just like he had so recently before he kissed her on the Dutchman, and she was suddenly afraid. Because the last time he had looked at her like that he was saying goodbye.

If you can't wait to read on the completed story can be found here: .com (/) post (/) 41006435953 (/) masterpost


	2. A Few More Pirates

In the days between escaping Davy Jones and the East India Trading Company and reaching Shipwreck Cove Elizabeth found her prowess as a Captain being tested. The crew followed her but while her knowledge of ships was proficient as a member of the crew the duties of a Captain were…well, sketchier. The only leaders of pirate vessels she'd met were Jack and Barbossa and while both competent they'd never allowed her access to what little reason they had between them for the things they did when leading men.

However fortune was on her side. Despite having to order the ship's doctor (if he could be called that) to treat James and nearly causing a small scale mutiny as a result the crew had come to respect her because of her actions during their capture and in part felt it was her who had secured their escape. As an escape from the clutches of Davy Jones was something few could brag about it was enough, for now, to placate them. Another stroke of luck; the weather was clement and no ships crossed their paths; piratical or otherwise.

James had taught her a very little of navigation when she was a child scampering bothersome around his ankles back when they had first reached Port Royal, eager for learning and adventure in her new, exciting home. It was enough for her to glean the basics and say the right words to reassure the crew; though Tai Hung and Cheng-Gong (who seemed the closest thing the ship had to a navigator) took control of leading the Empress onward towards the meeting of the Brethren Court.

Elizabeth balanced her visits with James carefully with her duties. While she now had respect and some level of trust with the crew it was evidently still delicate and easily broken. Showing too much favour to the former Admiral was asking for trouble. So she usually reserved her visits to him, in a store room not far from her own quarters, until after all but those stationed to watch had gone to sleep.

Liang, the equivalent of a ship's doctor, had said in his halting English that the wound had not been deep and no serious damage had been done; the only danger had been the blood loss. Still, aboard the dirty ship filled with possibilities for infection and with little to do but hope James took three days to break the fever which left him bedridden. If she had not thought the men would notice she would have slept at his bedside. As it was she stationed Liang to check the wound once every hour and clean it thoroughly with salt water. When that task was done, while the fever lasted and he was not lucid enough to understand what was happening, James' cries of agony could be heard above deck.

Yet James Norrington was nothing if not strong. The fever broke, the stitching held and as they approached Shipwreck Cove he was able to stand, not a week after being stabbed through the gut aboard the Flying Dutchman, at her side on deck.

Ahead of them stood a tall cliff face, reaching up high towards the heavens, steering them alongside it and daring any to try and find breach in its defenses.

"We're close now." she said, not looking away from the sight before them.

"The Brethren Court," he murmured, "If you had told me before all of this that I would be entering a room filled with Pirate Lords of my own free will I would have shot you to spare your descent into madness."

She smiled at the sardonic note to his voice. It was the perfect blend of the James she had known and the more worldly, more jaded version she had come to know aboard the Pearl. That was the kind of man she needed at her side now; not a Commodore, nor a ruthless pirate but a blend of the two.

"You stand next to one," she said, looking to him to judge his reaction, "You know that, don't you?"

His mouth twisted into a smile, not unkind nor mocking, but wry all the same.

"Pirate Lord of the South China Sea. It seems you outrank me considerably."

She laughed, turned back to face the view before them. It looked pleasant enough but Elizabeth knew by now that pleasant looking did not mean safe.

"You saved my life."

A long stretch of silence had passed between them and when he spoke it was matter of fact, with some of the mild mannered Commodore in his tone.

"And you mine, and those of my crew," was her reply, equally reasoned.

"Elizabeth…"

She turned then, fully turned, for though she was a Captain and Pirate Lord when James said her name in the way he had before Jack Sparrow had waltzed into their lives she was all but helpless not to listen. Her respect for that man, the brave, noble, loyal man he had been, if nothing else, made her do so.

"I know you cannot love me."

The statement was a shock and she had to force herself not to recoil, not to berate him for saying such a thing, on deck, before her crew (who were far from them and could not have possibly heard), so boldly and without preamble…

"I do not ask you to." he continued, undeterred, "All that I ask is you allow me to make right to wrongs between us. Allow me to heal some of the betrayal, the ill feeling I have caused."

She wanted to scream at him to stop. He had betrayed her, all of them, gotten them in this terrible mess in the first place…and yet she had done him so many wrongs that to hear his apologies was too hard. It was impossible to take the moral high ground and that in itself made her uneasy. Elizabeth swallowed once, hard, thinking desperately as to how to answer to something like that.

"You are…an experienced sea man."

The answer seemed to take him by surprise but she plowed on regardless. Now she had the answer she was not about to let him stop her from speaking it.

"I already have a first mate and my crew are capable and yet…your advice, your guidance, would be appreciated."

She raised her eyes from where they had settled on the ground and met his. He seemed confused, just for a moment, as though he expected her to make him walk the plank, expected her to keelhaul him or strap him to the mainsail and have him whipped. Which raised the question why - why would he expect that of her? Was she truly so much of a monster?

"If that is your wish…Captain."

She nodded her acquiescence and turned as the sound of footsteps, muted by the bare feet of the one approaching, caught her attention.

"Captain," said Tai Hung, bowing his head to her before continuing, "We approach Móguǐ de Hóulóng…" a pause as the First Mate shook his head, realizing belatedly that he had slipped into his native language, "Apologies…Captain, the Devil's Throat is upon us."

She looked to James and saw his expression was turned grim. She cocked her head, looking for an answer to a question she didn't need to ask.

"This is not going to be easy." was his response.

Elizabeth raised a brow. When was it ever?

They almost wrecked the Empress several times but her crew knew the ship like she was a limb, an extension of themselves, and with their skill as well as a few sound pieces of advice on James' side they navigated the Devil's Throat and the dangerous approach to the aptly named Shipwreck Cove just as night fell.

"Lucky," James said stiffly, "If we'd been any later in the day we'd have been stranded in the dark."

Elizabeth looked around at the men bearing torches around her, her eyes finding Tai Hung at the wheel.

"We're close?" she asked, looking past the dimly lit town of Shipwreck and wondering if this was truly the place where the Brethren Court sat.

"Patience, Captain, almost there." was Tai Hung's reply.

The men aligned at the bow of the ship held torches which lit up the water before them and Elizabeth looked up to James, as he had been since the morning glued to her side, and asked,

"What do you know about this place?"

He smiled that now familiar almost smirk and answered without taking his eyes off the water,

"Little to nothing - the location was a secret we could not find the root of. Impenetrable they say. Impossible to find unless you know where you're going - that was until Beckett got the key to finding it from Tu-"

James cut himself off abruptly. Elizabeth's eyes narrowed but she said nothing for a moment, reminding herself that it was true. Will had helped Cutler Beckett find Shipwreck Cove and though it seemed the East India Trading Company had not yet descended thanks to her fiance it was only a matter of time. Yet her mind strayed to Bootstrap Bill, to the memory of her own Father, and that more than anything brought her feelings of betrayal at odds.

"Will was only doing what he thought best." she retorted finally.

"Yes," James agreed, "But for whom?"

Elizabeth's jaw clenched. For whom indeed. However before she could say anything more a call came from a member of the crew arranged at the bow, his voice threaded with excitement as he called out,

"Shipwreck Cove ahoy!"

An undercurrent of anticipation in the form of fervent murmuring broke out at the bow of the ship and Elizabeth looked up just as they rounded the corner.

There, before them, lay Shipwreck Cove.

It stood tall, soft golden light illuminating every level of what seemed to be a column stretching ever onward, the glow giving the place an otherworldly feel. It was strange that something which bore the council of pirates could feel so…holy. Elizabeth couldn't help but marvel and she felt James' eyes upon her at her side.

"It's…" she said, unable to find a suitable word to finish her sentence.

"Full of pirates." James offered, causing her to look away and see his partly shadowed face not smirking, thank God, but smiling. Almost the same soft smile he had given her before, in the other time.

She returned the smile, her eyes glancing over the many ships assembled in the makeshift port.

"Well, it's about to house a few more."


	3. The Brethren Court

"…and I'm as content as a cucumber to wait until Sao Feng joins us…"

"Sao Feng is dead." Elizabeth announced.

The Pirate Lords were assembled around the table and all eyes turned to her and her crew. She wasn't afraid, couldn't be, but she felt James move ever so slightly closer on her left and in secret she was grateful for it.

"He fell to the Flying Dutchman." she continued, keeping her voice strong, proud.

Immediately talking broke out among the assembled court, noises of outrage, cries of shock. Taking a deep breath Elizabeth discounted it all and approached the globe where eleven swords were impaled. Quickly sighting the location of the South China Sea she thrust her own blade in and heard Jack ask incredulously,

"He made you Captain?! They're just giving the bloody title away now…"

Elizabeth ignored him and approached the table, placing her hands on the wood and leaning forwards as a Spanish Captain began shouting at her in his native tongue.

"Listen!" she called, "Listen to me!"

The chatter continued and she swallowed. James was still close but he said nothing and she was grateful. She had to earn the Court's respect in the same way she had earned that of her crew…on her own merit.

"Our location has been betrayed."

Instantly quiet fell and Elizabeth felt a dull thrum of satisfaction at that.

"Jones is under the command of Lord Beckett," she continued, "They're on their way here."

"Who is this betrayer?" asked a tall African man, standing almost a foot above everyone else.

Elizabeth looked around hoping that she would find Will. It was an empty wish, she knew, because if Will were there he would have made himself known immediately.

"Not likely anyone among us." Barbossa answered the question.

"Where's Will?" she murmured, directing her question to Jack.

"Not among us." was his answer, mocking in his tone.

"The question is not how they found us, but what will we do now they have?" continued Barbossa. Elizabeth glanced at the man, appreciating his adherence to business. Barbossa had done terrible things but he had always had control, a sort of inherent power, which she couldn't help but grudgingly admire.

"We fight." she said, answering the question with what she thought to be the most obvious, the only, answer.

Laughter broke out. Elizabeth frowned and she felt James press a little closer, murmuring under his breath so that only she could hear,

"Pirates."

It was reminder enough. Had she not learned from Jack that the surest way to win a confrontation was to avoid it? Pirates cheated and lied and stole, they were betrayers and for all their talk of codes they had a higher interest; self interest, which always won the day.

"Shipwreck Cove is a fortress," said a heavily painted old lady, smiling through blackened teeth, "A well supplied fortress!" she continued, standing, her insubstantial height doing nothing to denounce the power of her words, "There is no need to fight if they cannot get to us!"

Elizabeth's body tensed, ready to object. To fight was the only way to overthrow Cutler Beckett, the only way to stop Jones terrorizing the sea. The only way to make sure Will could regain the father he so longed for and the way she could gain justice for her own father's death.

"There be a third course."

Barbossa's words brought quiet and again Elizabeth felt envy for the power of his voice. Was it because she was a woman, or inexperienced, or merely young - which was the reason for why she could gain no respect?

_Pirates_, James had said. Perhaps that was the answer. For though she was a Pirate Captain and though she was Lord of the South China Sea she was, to those around her, a Governor's daughter; brought up spoiled and willful and too young to understand the games being played around her.

Well, she thought, at least that was what they imagined. And perhaps they had been right, once upon a time. But not now.

"In another age, at this very spot…" Barbossa continued, moving away now and drawing eyes with him.

As she turned she saw Jack's dark gaze scan her crew and widen slightly as he caught sight of James. She steeled herself for confrontation, for accusations of spies in the camp…but none came. Jack simply raised an eyebrow at her, gave her the patented Sparrow smirk and turned his attention fully onto Barbossa.

If anything that was worse. Jack was plotting, she just knew it, and if anything happened to James as a result the fault would be hers.

"…the first Brethren Court captured the sea Goddess and bound her in her bones."

The assembled court nodded in unison but Elizabeth looked from one to the other, puzzled. What did sea Goddesses matter? A glance to Jack offered nothing but before she could ask Barbossa finished,

"That was a mistake. Oh we tamed the seas for ourselves, aye - but opened the door to Beckett, and his ilk!"

Elizabeth once again eyed those assembled and she found confusion on many faces…but also interest. Barbossa had their interest. That, Elizabeth thought, was significant.

"Better were the days when mastery of seas came not from bargains struck with eldritch creatures but the sweat of a man's brow and the strength of his back alone. You all know this to be true!"

Elizabeth looked up to James and saw him eyeing Barbossa, his expression set. He caught her glance and returned it with one of his own. She raised a brow, a question, and he inclined his head, just slightly, in response. She did the same. They were both agreed then, she had not gone mad…Barbossa was making sense. Barbossa was speaking the truth both she and James felt. Elizabeth wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not but it was something.

"Gentlemen!" Barbossa continued, moving back to his original position, pausing at her and smiling his terrifying smile, "Ladies."

He paused, expression set, before finishing with his final stroke,

"We must free Calypso."

Elizabeth let out a breath. There went the sanity. A moment's pause and the court erupted and yells came from the Lords,

"Shoot him!"

"Cut out his tongue!"

"Shoot him and cut out his tongue!" Jack exclaimed, making the most, as he always did, of the chaos, "And then shoot his tongue…and," turning to Barbossa, "Trim that scraggly beard."

"Sao Feng would have agreed with Barbossa," spoke up Tai Hung.

Elizabeth looked on but said nothing, though when Tai Hung turned to her to see whether he would be punished for speaking out she inclined her head slightly. He tightened his mouth and bowed his head low. Elizabeth knew she had few enough allies as it was; there was no sense in losing her first mate for the crime of simply speaking his mind.

"Calypso was our enemy then, she will be our enemy now!" roared the tall African Lord, causing murmurs of assent, followed by the Frenchman saying,

"And it is unlikely her mood will be improved."

Elizabeth gritted her teeth. This was getting them nowhere.

"I would still agree with Sao Feng," the Spanish Lord announced, laying down his pistol with a thud, "We free Calypso."

She wondered whether they had truly noticed that Sao Feng was not there, and she stood in his place. It appeared not.

"You threaten me?" asked the Frenchman, his voice going deadly smooth.

"I silence you!" the Spanish Lord exclaimed, raising his pistol and waving it in the air.

He was promptly cut off when the Frenchman punched him squarely in the nose.

Immediately fighting broke out, the table becoming a mass of bodies trying to punch and kick and bruise every part of everyone else. Elizabeth watched, flabbergasted, at the brawl.

"This is madness." she murmured.

"This is politics." Jack corrected, reminding her once again that these were pirates, not gentlemen.

"Meanwhile," Elizabeth pressed, "Our enemies are bearing down upon us."

"If they not be here already." Barbossa confirmed before, in a movement which belied his age and the wear his life had had on his body, climbed atop the table and let off a shot towards the sky.

Immediately all went quiet, all freezing in position and looking up to where Barbossa stood, as a King atop a throne.

"It was the First Court what imprisoned Calypso." he announced, his voice booming, "We should be the ones to set her free and in her gratitude she will see fit to grant us boons."

"Whose boons?!" asked Jack, "Your boons?!"

Barbossa rolled his eyes in exasperation and moved to dismount the table.

"Utterly deceptive twaddle speak says I," Jack continued, taking control from where Barbossa had held it.

Elizabeth felt as though she should speak, should press for war, because what was being achieved thus far was nothing. She could practically feel Beckett and Jones breathing down their neck and she looked to James for guidance. However he was looking fixedly on Jack and with a sigh she took that to be her cue. When she had become a Pirate Lord she had borne no thought for the fact that there were eight others, more cutthroat and determined, more selfish and experienced and, yes, more piratical than her. The power she had hoped to gain was dwindling to nothing.

"If you have a better alternative, please share!" exclaimed Barbossa in answer to Jack, sarcasm laced thick in his voice.

"Cuttlefish." Jack promptly answered.

Barbossa did a double take and Elizabeth herself closed her eyes. Jack was not completely mad, that she knew, but there was enough madness in him to drive her to despair - especially now of all times.

"Let us not, dear friends," Jack continued, moving away from them with measured movement. "Forget our dear friends, the cuttlefish."

James bent closer and she felt his breath on her ear as he murmured lowly,

"Sparrow has a plan."

Her attention sharpened. Of course he did - when did Captain Jack Sparrow not have a plan? She nodded to show she had heard him and James stood again, his presence lifting but not moving further away as he stood straight.

"…glorious little sausages," Jack continued, rambling, "Pen them up together and they'll devour one another without a second thought! Human nature, isn't it? Or…or fish, nature. So yes," he leaned down and placed his hands on the small Japanese lady's shoulders, "We could hold up here well provisioned and well armed and half of us would be dead within the month which…seems quite grim to me, any way you slice it. Or…"

He continued his circuit of the room and Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. Was he doing what she thought he was doing? Was he pressing for war?

"…as my learned colleague so naively suggests, we can release Calypso and pray that she will be merciful. I rather doubt it."

Jack had turned most of the room and Elizabeth's suspicions were aroused. He had discounted the other two options put forward which only left her own. But why? Why would Jack Sparrow of all people press for the most dangerous, most righteous, way of handling the situation?

"For can we truly pretend she is more than a woman scorned, which fury hell hath no? We cannot."

He spoke in a language she did not understand before finishing up with the simple statement which he had taken so long to come around to voicing,

"We are left with but one option."

Elizabeth couldn't stop a self satisfied smile from emerging as she waited for Jack to make his final blow.

"I agree with…and I cannot believe these words are coming out of me mouth…Captain Swan. We must fight."

She released a breath. Jack was on her side. She didn't for one moment think it wasn't to further one of his own self serving plans but he was with her and, in her experience, once Jack Sparrow set his mind to something it was always done, in the end.

"You've always run away from a fight!" Barbossa exclaimed in retort.

"Have not!" was Jack's answer.

"Y'have so!"

"Have not!"

"Y'have so!"

"Have not!"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. One step forward and two back.

"Y'have so and y'know it."

Have not! Slander and calumny. I have only ever embraced that oldest and most noble of pirate traditions; I submit here, now, this is what we all must do. We must fight…to run away."

A pause and Elizabeth wondered whether she could shoot Jack from across the table without being instantly filled with shots herself.

"AYE!" shouted Gibbs.

"AYE!" agreed the rest of the Court.

"Aye…" Elizabeth breathed, sensing this was not going to go the way she wanted it to.

"As per the code!" Barbossa announced, this voice once again rising above all others, "An act of war, and this be exactly that, can only be declared by the Pirate King."

"You made that up!" Jack immediately exclaimed.

"Good Lord…" she heard James mutter from behind her.

"Did I now?" Barbossa asked, cunning in his voice, "I call on Cap'n Teague, Keeper of the Code."

Elizabeth was taken aback at the way Jack's face fell at that. Was Barbossa right? Or was it this Teague who struck such fear into the usually fearless Jack Sparrow?

"Sri Sumbhajee," announced the first mate of the tiny Indian Lord who had yet to speak in Elizabeth's earshot, "Proclaims this all to be folly. Hang the code! Who c-"

A shot rang out, cutting off the man, and almost immediately his body struck the floor. Elizabeth's hand went to her belt only to remember her sword was in the globe but she clearly heard the slide of steel behind her; James was a step away from unsheathing his own blade. All eyes strayed to the cloud of smoke from where the shot came and from the shadows a voice came,

"The Code is the law."

Elizabeth turned fully to watch with everyone else as a man emerged, approaching steadily and looking remarkably like…

"You're in my way, boy."

Jack moved instantly, sliding to the side without comment. The man, Captain Teague she presumed, gestured to two men who carried a heavy tome between them. Murmurings broke out, all saying the same thing.

"The Code."

Elizabeth watched, entranced, remembering the stories she had read as a girl of Morgan and Bartholomew, the way she had used the Code against Barbossa and his crew to save her life; and to propel her into the world of piracy which she was now so entrenched in. The huge leather bound volume looked every bit as to what she'd imagined.

Teague whistled and a dog bearing a ring of keys appeared. He took the key and, saying something about sea turtles to Pintel and Ragetti, Elizabeth watched awestruck as the Code was opened. From her vantage point she could see the writing, flowing across the page, and also countless scraps of paper stuck onto the heavy looking pages; notes and amendments perhaps.

"Barbossa is right." Teague finally announced after several tense moments.

"Hang on a minute," Jack said as Barbossa waved an arm, self righteous in the confirmation. "It shall be the duties, as the King, to declare war, parley with shared adversaries…fancy that."

"There has not been a King since the First Court." announced the French Lord. "And that's not likely to change."

"Why not?" Elizabeth asked.

"See," Gibbs replied, leaning forward, "The Pirates King is accepted by popular vote…"

"And each pirate," Barbossa broke in, "Only ever votes for hisself."

"I call for a vote." Jack exclaimed.

Teague began playing a tune in the corner of the room on a stringed instrument while everyone let out noises of dissent before beginning.

"I vote for Ammand the Corsair!"

"Capitaine Chevalle, the penniless Frenchman."

"Sri Sumbhajee votes for Sri Sumbhajee."

"Mistress Ching."

"Gentleman Jocard."

Elizabeth shook her head when it came to her.

"Elizabeth Swann." she said, knowing it would do nothing useful but unable to say with honesty that anyone in the room, other than her, would follow the course of action she wished for. Jack was the exception - but voting Jack King of Pirates would have been the work of a madman.

"Barbossa."

"Vallenueva!"

They came to Jack and there was a pause.

"Elizabeth Swann." he said slowly and with glee.

Elizabeth's stomach lurched as she registered his words. Had he just…?

"What?" she asked, dumbly.

"I know, curious isn't it?"

Almost instantly yells of dissent broke out. People yelling at one another, at Jack, at her - she felt James discreetly place a hand on her elbow and knew that if anything happened, if anyone tried to attack her, they would not succeed.

"Am I to understand…that you will not be keeping to the Code then?" Jack asked.

A sharp sound of a string breaking drew all attention to Teague who was sitting tense and seething in the corner of the room at the very idea of the Code being ignored. Everyone went quiet and returned to their places under his fiery gaze and Elizabeth wondered what power the man had, to have so many formidable Pirates so terrified of his wrath.

"Very well," said Mistress Cheng, turning to Elizabeth, "What say you, Captain Swann, King of the Brethren Court?"

All eyes turned to her and Elizabeth felt the pressure of her decision. What she said would affect every man and woman in the room…yet there was but one option in her mind.

"Prepare every vessel that floats. At dawn," she looked to Jack to see his approval directed straight back at her, "We're at war."


	4. Before the Dawn

The crews had returned to their ships, readying for the morning, but tradition dictated that the Pirate Lords and their King spent the evening before war within Shipwreck Cove. All the Lords had kept a man to hand; for protection was the unspoken reason as although all were united all were also pirates and from that there was no escape.

Elizabeth had sent Tai Hung back with the crew, telling him come the morning she would sail upon the Black Pearl and he would assume command of the Empress. He had bowed low and with a feral grin retreated to his ship to begin preparations. At her side though remained James, quiet and blending into the shadows as much as possible as per her own wishes as well as his need to live out the day. What the reaction would be if the other Lords discovered a former Admiral of Cutler Beckett's forces was aboard she could not tell - but she knew it would not be good.

Jack had cornered her not long after the Court had drawn to a close.

"See you've found yourself an Officer, Lizzie." he said, grinning as he spoke.

"Be careful, Jack," she warned, James looming at her shoulder silently, "You made me King, remember?"

He grinned even wider at that and responded gleefully,

"That I did, your majesty. That I did."

When he sauntered away she kept an eye on him for a long time, watching him weave between people, dropping a word here, a word there. However no one pounced upon James so she had to accept that, for whatever reason, Jack had refrained from revealing his identity.

Therefore she sat, looking out a window in one of the highest rooms within Shipwreck Cove, staring at the fleet - her fleet for all intents and purposes. The sill was hard beneath her but she did not move to sit on the bed (a large, musty looking thing with four posts and blankets the colour of blood) or take one of the rickety looking velvet lined chairs scattered throughout the quarters; no doubt all looted from some ship or other over the years.

"War is the right choice." she said finally.

James had taken one of the chairs and had been sitting, respecting her silence, until that moment. However with her words he answered,

"It is the choice I would make, were I in your position."

She nodded, resting her chin on her knees. She had removed her ridiculous hat but still wore the garb of the Chinese pirates. The brocade was rough against the skin of her face as she ground her chin into it.

"Beckett's fleet is large?"

James paused before answering,

"I have never seen one of its like."

She let out a breath, closing her eyes for a moment.

"A good leader," James continued, "Requires not experience nor technical expertise. There is no lesson to be learned to become a leader of men."

Elizabeth let out a huff of jaded laughter.

"What then?" she asked.

"Conviction." he replied.

She looked up taking him in; his wig long gone and brown hair escaping the tie at the back of his head to hang in strands around his face. His skin was smeared with dirt and grime, far more tan than it had been back in Port Royal, his white shirt filthy and trousers worn. The jacket he wore was one from the Empress, heavy with brocade like her own garb but not as ostentatious. He looked tired, she thought, and wondered briefly whether she did too.

"You know war is the right option, the only one."

She nodded.

"Then all you must do to convince the men is show them you are sure. Do not falter, do not question. You must know. That in turn will give them the strength to know the same truth."

She turned away, looking back to the fleet. She imagined all the hundreds of men, running around on deck, preparing for the next day, perhaps some grasping at a few moment's sleep, others eating what could be their last meal.

"Turner will be alright."

She turned sharply at that, looking at him with surprise. He seemed to register that and looked down at his own lap, suddenly seemingly unable to meet her gaze.

"You were not thinking of him?"

Elizabeth hesitated, wondering whether she should answer.

"Not in that moment," was her final response, "But I do think of him, often."

James said nothing to that, merely kept his eyes down. However she could see his fists were clenched tightly, the knuckles white.

"Will has…he has a burden to bear."

James said nothing but this, in a way, only spurred Elizabeth on.

"His father was taken by Davy Jones, became part of his crew…Will met him when he was captured and from then on there has been this…this fire in him. He must save his father, at all costs, but I fear…" she stopped, pressing a hand to her forehead, trying to quell the ache which had been there, growing, since the Brethren Court, "I fear it's too late."

She heard movement but did not look up as James moved closer, coming to sit in what little space she did not take up in the window.

"His quest to save his father is at odds with the one you have to claim vengeance for the death of your own."

She let out a long, slow breath and removed her hand, looking up. There was understanding there and Elizabeth couldn't help but marvel at the fact that after everything James could still show compassion, even in this.

"If he were forced to choose…I don't know what he'd do." she admitted.

James merely nodded, saying nothing, and she was grateful for that. He could have so easily pushed at the thought at the corner of her own mind; _if he wouldn't chose you then does he truly love you? _

"Perhaps…" he said, his low voice gentle, "The best course would be to think of these things once the battle is done. Once Turner has succeeded or failed in helping his father."

Elizabeth wrung her hands and smiled tightly.

"You're right," she responded, "Of course…tomorrow we go to war and here I am talking of romance like a dizzy child."

James smiled. She returned it tilting her head and saying quietly,

"I'm glad you're here."

If his expression tensed at that it was only for a moment for almost instantly he was wearing the bland expression of the Commodore again. He had always been so good at hiding his emotions, apart from when ridiculously drunk in Tortuga, it almost pained her to know he still had reason to do so - because of her.

"Tai Hung has the Empress now and tomorrow I'll be aboard the Pearl," she said, watching him carefully as she spoke, "I'm down a first mate and I'll need you close. Will you do it?"

His jaw clenched, a tick visible, before he asked,

"Is that an order?"

She drew in a deep breath through her nose.

"Don't." she warned.

"Don't what?" he asked, purposely, infuriatingly, obtuse.

"Don't make this difficult. I'm King of Pirates and tomorrow I take them all to war, I have no idea where Will is, Jack is scheming, Cutler Beckett and Davy Jones are two steps away from killing us all…don't take away the only sure thing I have."

She kept hold of his gaze, not backing down, and saw the fight of emotions playing beneath the attempt at inscrutability. She knew him too well, after all the years between them, to not see it.

"Do you think, despite everything," he said, his voice close to shaking with suppressed emotion, "That I would abandon you? You know I couldn't, no matter how much I may wish it."

"Why?" she asked, even though a part of her told her this was too far, that she was pushing too far.

"You know why." he replied, steel-like, "I won't say it. Not when the sentiment is not wished for."

There was nothing to say to that so silence fell between them. Her eyes once again drifted to the fleet beyond the window and once again the weight of responsibility fell heavy upon her.

She felt him touch her hand and started, looking down to see their hands just barely touching.

"It will be alright, Elizabeth," he reassured, the anger of moments before seemingly faded to nothing, "We may be pirates but we're on the side of right."

She nodded slightly, willing the truth in his words to comfort her. However above all what she heard was we. Not you, not I - _we_. He truly was going to stand by her, for better or worse. Slowly Elizabeth turned her hand and threaded her fingers through his. She didn't look up, didn't mark his expression, merely squeezed tightly.

"Thank you." she said, meaning it most sincerely.

Rising from her seat she moved away, releasing his hand slowly, before removing her shoes and climbing fully dressed under the musty covers of the bed. It was comfortable and she was grateful for that if nothing else. Turning she saw James was sitting where she'd left him, watching her with eyes which were shadowed in the dim candlelight of the room.

"Goodnight James." she murmured.

There was a pause before he answered softly,

"Goodnight Elizabeth."

She closed her eyes.


	5. Parley

Elizabeth stood on the bow of the Pearl, looking out. Behind her lay the pirate fleet and on her left Barbossa, her right James. Jack had hidden himself further back, among the crew, and whatever reason he had for it Elizabeth had allowed it. She had bigger problems to contend with.

As the first ship emerged upon the misty horizon the crew began to yell, waving cutlasses and swords in the air, almost a feral battle cry. She steeled herself as more and more ships appeared…and more, and more until the horizon was black with enemy ships. There was an Armada amassed against them and every pirate ship on the seven seas would not be enough to defend against it. The men quieted. Elizabeth looked to James. His expression showed no fear but his eyes told her something else. He had not expected so many. This, his eyes said, was an un-winnable war.

"Parley?" she heard Jack say from somewhere behind them.

James nodded, adding quietly to her,

"Parley."

She nodded. Turning to the crew of the Pearl she took a deep breath.

"Conviction." he reminded her quietly from her side, the single word giving her courage where before she had faltered.

Conviction bred conviction. Strength bred strength. Isn't that what he'd told her?

"Myself, Captain Barbossa and Captain Sparrow will Parley with the enemy. The ship will be left under the command of my first mate. His word is mine until I return."

She gave Jack a level look which he returned with a nod before looking to Barbossa and seeing a similar reaction. They were on side. That was a good start.

"I should go with you." James said, catching her arm gently.

"No," was her response, though she did not shake him free, "I need you to make sure the men remain strong, remain loyal. The last thing we need is the Pearl turning tail while I Parley. You can lead, James, and I'd trust no one else to do so."

He looked at her for a long moment, his expression set, before raising a hand to touch her cheek gently, almost too intimate and yet at the same time not at all.

"Be careful." he said, the ferocity of his tone reminding her once again that this man before her, despite all that had happened between them, all she had done, would do anything for her.

"You too." she answered, placing her hand over his and then moving, following Jack and Barbossa to the row boat already being lowered over the edge of the ship.

"There's a stretch of land not far off," Barbossa observed, "We should meet there. Send the parrot with a message."

Elizabeth nodded, hearing James begin to call out orders as she stepped into the boat. Looking over she saw him, standing proud, men moving around him as he gave them new tasks to complete. Just before she was lowered down he turned and caught her eye. She didn't smile, didn't offer any assurance or encouragement, simply looked at him.

The shifting in her heart as his eyes met hers gave her unease. It had been too long since she had seen Will. If this parley could get him back, she decided, she would do it. What might happen if she didn't worried her more than twenty East India Trading Company fleets.

* * *

Jack and Will had planned something. The way they glanced at one another across the beach told her that and while she understood the need for secrecy a part of her rebelled at the idea that Will was pushing her out; again.

"…your debt to me is still to be payed!" Jones exclaimed, directing his anger at Jack, "One hundred years aboard the Dutchman - as a start!"

Elizabeth gave Jack a sidelong glance, an idea forming in her mind.

"That debt was paid mate," he gestured to Elizabeth, "With some help."

She looked to Will who was smiling ever so slightly, the corner of his mouth upturned. Why was he smiling, not at her, but at Jack?

"You escaped!" Jones retorted.

"Technically," Jack replied.

"I propose an exchange." she said, cutting through the pointless argument. "Will leaves with us…" she looked to Beckett, "And you can take Jack."

Barbossa and Jack looked to her, though surprisingly Barbossa the more incredulous. Jack seemed confused but was there a flair of an act in his expression?

"Done!" Will announced, distracting attention from her to him.

"Undone!" Jack exclaimed.

"Done." Beckett said finally, his self satisfied smirk begging Elizabeth to cut it off.

"Jack's one of the nine Pirate Lords," Barbossa objected, Elizabeth found it strange, that he of all people would object to getting rid of Jack, "You have no right!"

She turned to him slowly, a single brow raised.

"King." she said simply.

She turned to Jack, waiting for him to throw in his own objections.

"As you command," he said instead, taking off his hat and giving a mocking bow, "Your nibs."

"Blackguard!" Barbossa exclaimed, forcing her to take a sharp set back as he unsheathed his sword and swept it towards Jack, narrowly missing him.

Why was Barbossa suddenly defending her honour?

He approached Jack and murmured something which she only just caught,

"If ye have something to say, I might be saying something as well."

Elizabeth's eyes went from Barbossa to Will and then to Jack. She had that overwhelming, frustrating feeling that something was going on which she had been left out of.

"First to the finish then?" Jack answered simply, not apparently expecting an answer to his question, moving to trade places with Will.

As Will came to stand by her Elizabeth looked up, catching his eyes with her own. She was glad he was unharmed and yet she said nothing. She was not Elizabeth Swann in that moment but the Pirate King - and there was business to be done.

"Advise your Brethren," Beckett said to her, stepping forward and smirking, "You can fight and all of you can die or you can not fight, in which case only most of you will die."

She stepped up to meet him, trying to quell the steely hatred in her heart. Strength bred strength she reminded herself. She had to be strong now, in order to win the war and not just gain a single battle.

"You murdered my father." she ground out.

"He chose his own fate." Beckett hissed in response.

Calm, she told herself, thinking of what James would do in such a situation, drawing from the cold stoicism she had often seen him display. She had to be blank now. She had to be impenetrable.

"And you have chosen yours." was her response, cold and steely, "We will fight…and you will die."

With that, not trusting her resolve to last out longer, she turned and marched away, not waiting to see if Barbossa and Will followed. She had to return to the Pearl, had to plan how to make her meager fleet survive against an Armada. James would know what to do.

"King?"

Will had come up beside her and she gave him a customary glance. The worry over his intrigues, past and present, remained but she had no time to question him now.

"Of the Brethren Court, courtesy of Jack." she answered shortly.

"Maybe he really does know what he's doing." Will answered.

She gave a tight smile but in her mind she couldn't help but question, _you would know what he's doing better than anyone, with your scheming together._

But instead she said nothing.

* * *

"We'll need to use the Black Pearl as a flagship to lead the attack, where's Ja-"

Elizabeth trailed off as she came to a halt behind Barbossa. They had barely been on deck for a moment and yet under some order, whose she knew not, Tia Dalma was being led, heavily bound, from below and onto deck.

"Will we now?" Barbossa asked, a smirk in his voice.

"No!" Will exclaimed.

Elizabeth's eyes scoured the assembled crew, all apparently taking Barbossa as Captain. Which left the question…

"What did you do with James? Where is he?"

Barbossa cackled, gesturing to someone out of sight. A group of pirates parted and through them was pushed a figure, hands bound behind his back, gag in his mouth and a bloody wound at his head. James staggered towards her and Elizabeth dashed forward to meet him, stopping his forward momentum with her body.

"James," she murmured, reaching up and tugging the gag from his mouth, "Are you alright?"

He let out a long breath, seemingly thinking her question not worth answering, his head dropping to be closer hers, eyes closed as though in prayer,

"I thought he'd kill you," he whispered, "Thank God, thank God…"

"If the lovers can abstain for a moment," Barbossa said, his mocking tone causing Elizabeth to turn, back against James' chest, as they both saw Will give them a suspicious look. "There is business to attend to."

"Barbossa you can't release her!" Will exclaimed, attention dragged from her and James to the greater matter at hand.

Instantly pistols and swords were turned on them all and Barbossa approached her, his expression set.

"We need to give Jack a chance." said Elizabeth, hoping that whatever Jack was planning would come into action soon.

"Apologies, your Majesty," Barbossa responded, "Too long has me fate not been in me own hands."

He leaned forward and James made a noise of protest. She reached behind her and laid a hand on his arm, staying him. If he reacted rashly now who knew what the pirates might do to him? She needed him alive, absolutely and completely.

Barbossa reached down and tugged Sao Feng's piece of eight from her neck, breaking the cord almost effortlessly.

"No longer." Barbossa added, turning and taking the piece of eight towards Tia Dalma.

She and James were surrounded, weapons drawn and ready to strike them down at the slightest provocation. Will, a few short feet away, was similarly unable to act. Therefore they had no choice but to watch as Barbossa began his ritual.

"The items collected, then burned," he said, explaining his actions, "And then the words must be said; Calypso, I release ye from your human bonds."

A pause.

"Is that it?" asked Pintel.

"It is said," answered Barbossa, looking up, "That is must be spoken as though to a lover."

Noises of understanding from the crew came and Elizabeth felt James press closer against her back. Her hand was still on his arm, making sure he was near, and from the corner of her eye she saw Will glance at her. Something in her would not let her return his look however, her eyes were focused on Tia Dalma.

Barbossa stood taller, taking a deep breath before he boomed,

"Calypso! I release you from your human bonds!"

He lowered his torch to the light the pieces of eight and…nothing. Elizabeth loosened the grip on James' arm which had become tighter at some point, though she head no idea when, and she felt him release a breath, warmth creeping down her neck and making her shiver.

"Is that it?" asked Pintel.

"No…no, no - he didn't say it right!" exclaimed Ragetti.

All eyes found the young, one eyed pirate and Ragetti, finding that attention was his, stuttered again,

"He didn't….didn't say it right," another pause, "You have to say it right."

Under Barbossa's expectant, if slightly disbelieving, gaze Ragetti turned and slowly approached Tia Dalma. Then, so softly Elizabeth could not hear the words being said, he spoke.

Tia Dalma's head fell back, as though in the throes of ecstasy and instantly the plate containing the pieces of eight burst into flames. The pirates holding her forced Tia Dalma's head forward and she breathed in the acrid smoke coming from the bowl. Elizabeth pressed herself further back to James, the pirates around her were mindless of their actions now, so entranced were they by the events transpiring before them.

"Tia Dalma!"

Will had obviously realized the same thing as he took the opportunity to surge forward, barely being caught by the pirates supposedly minding him. When Tia Dalma did not respond Will tried again, this time with a different name.

"Calypso."

Instantly Calypso's head turned, her gaze fixing on Will so that fear rose in Elizabeth's stomach for him. Her grip on James tightened and she felt him shift, as though trying to protect her from whatever ill was about to occur.

"When the Brethren Court first imprisoned you," Will pressed, his voice low and intent, "Who was it that showed them how? Who was it that betrayed you?"

"Name him." Calypso spat, her voice shaking with rage.

A pause, after which Will said darkly,

"Davy Jones."


	6. Calypso

Calypso let out a howl of anguish, throwing back her head and shrieking to the heavens, her body trembling as she…as she began to grow.

The pirates staggered back, those who held ropes trying desperately to keep hold, those who were supposed to be guarding her, James and Will seemingly forgetting their charges in their desperation to get away from the Goddess.

Elizabeth took her chance, darting behind James and working his ropes free. The binding fell to the floor and almost immediately he turned and grabbed hold of her, dragging her back from Calypso. She stumbled in his grasp and held onto his forearms tightly, looking up at him. He looked desperate, she thought, and for a moment she wondered why. The great Goddess growing ten feet a second behind them…or because of her? Because he thought she'd been dead and now nothing was going to hurt her while he breathed.

"James…" she murmured, her eyes going to his lips, breath catching in her throat as he seemed to move closer, his body shielding hers…

"Elizabeth!"

She turned to see Will (how was it that she had forgotten about Will?) across the deck, staring at her and James in shock. However all of their attention for one another was stolen when quiet fell and Barbossa approached the now monstrous form towering above them all.

"Calypso!" he called, arms spread wide in supplication, falling to one knee. Elizabeth looked over to Will who began to kneel and followed his lead, James sinking down with her, staying close but not touching.

"I come before you but as a servant, humble and contrite. I have fulfilled me vow, and now ask your favour. Spare meself, me ship, me crew…"

Elizabeth saw it now, her head flying up, eyes finding Barbossa's back.

"…but unleash your fury upon those who dare pretend themselves your masters…or mine."

He was trying to save them. Trying to give them the edge, the incredible, unbelievable edge, that they needed to defeat Beckett's Armada. Good intentions, she thought wryly, terrible execution.

It was then that Calypso began to yell. Her screams were deep and dark, like the ocean itself, filled with anger and hate, her head rolling too and fro, not a word legible to anyone below. Elizabeth stood and James pulled her back to him, arms around her waist, as Calypso's human face began to crumble and turn into a never ending cascade…of crabs.

Before she could react she felt herself whirled around, bent over as a body loomed over her, shielding her from the tidal wave which was about to strike.

"Close your eyes!" James yelled and she did so, obeying him without question, her hands finding his at her waist and holding on tight as he staggered, the thing that was once Tia Dalma striking them with force. For a moment she couldn't breathe, couldn't think, fear hammering within her, the grip she had on James' hands the only thing anchoring her.

Then, as quickly as it had come, the wave was gone.

She felt him move back and stood with him, her legs shaking.

"Elizabeth?" he murmured, gently turning her to face him, a hand going to cup her cheek, "Are you alright?"

One of her hands was still in his and the other reached up, covering his hand with her own the same way she had done before she went to parley. There the creature which had sat in her chest, the same one which had borne her unease when she looked at him from the boat, awoke. Because she had not imagined it. There was something there.

"What the hell was that?!" shouted someone from close by.

Elizabeth took a deep breath, suddenly realizing that she and James were not alone, that there was an Armada at their backs, that there was a war to be won. She lowered her eyes and removed her hand from over his. However as his fell from her cheek and it looked as though he were to take a step back she raised her now free hand and placed it on his chest, over his heart.

There it beat, faster than any drum.

Her hat had fallen off and suddenly her hair blew across her face, the wind changing direction rapidly. She released James, hands scooping hair from her mouth and eyes, as she turned to look up. The clouds were shifting.

"Storm's coming."

Elizabeth turned to find Will standing, his eyes focused on her. He looked angry; his brow furrowed, eyes darting from her to James and back again.

"It's not over." she looked up again to the clouds, watching as they moved faster than was natural.

"There's still a fight to be had."

Will's words drew her eyes back down - though whether he was talking of the impending battle or something else she couldn't be sure.

"We have an Armada against us and with the Dutchman there's no chance."

"There's only a fool's chance." Elizabeth corrected.

"Revenge won't bring your father back, Miss Swann." Barbossa inputted, his voice low, despondent as he approached from behind her…like they'd already lost. "And it's not something I'm intending to die for."

Elizabeth took in a deep steadying breath, and looked from Will, back now turned to her and staring out at the shadow of Beckett's force, to Gibbs whose face was set, Pintel and Ragetti who were watching the sky with similarly confused expressions and finally, finally to James.

He looked back, steady and unyielding. And then he smiled. Conviction, she heard him say as though he were speaking it at that very moment, give them conviction.

"You're right," she said turning to Barbossa, walking past him and asking quietly, "Then…what shall we die for?"

She continued onward, walking through the crowd around her, breaking a path without trying,

"You will listen to me," she commanded, her voice holding a steel which even to her own ears sounded foreign, "Listen!"

Her feet carried her to the rail of the deck and up onto it, a piece of rigging lending her support as she stood and faced them; not just Barbossa and Will, not just the crew of the Pearl but the entire fleet - every pirate from every one of the seven seas.

"The Brethren will still be looking here, to us, to the Black Pearl to lead. And what will they see? Frightened bilge rats aboard a derelict ship? No. No. They will see free men - and freedom! And what the enemy will see will be the flash of our canons, they will hear the ring of our swords and they will know what we can do."

She paused, her eyes finding out Barbossa whose head was down.

"By the sweat of our brows," she continued, willing him to hear her, "By the strength of our backs…" he looked up and she nodded, seeing he had heard, truly heard, what she was saying, "And by the courage of our hearts."

Her eyes searched the crowd but she could not find Will, though she knew he was there. No matter how hard she tried her eyes found, could not help but find, James; standing there straight backed, his eyes on hers, a look of pride on his face which gave her more strength than another thousand ships possibly could.

"Gentlemen," she said, voice filled with emotion as James nodded, a single motion showing that he was there, he was with her, "Hoist the colours."

There was a pause and then a voice, close by, called out,

"Hoist the colours."

She looked down to see Will, staring up at her. However his face was almost pained, though he shouted louder, driving her point home,

"Host the colours!"

The cry grew louder, more desperate and she raised her eyes to the main sail, screaming with all the strength in her body,

"HOIST THE COLOURS!"

Her cry reached and beyond she heard the yell of the crew of the Empress and turned her head to see their colours rise, setting off a chain as one by one the pirate ships raised their flags high, the colours of all the different nations flapping wildly in the ever growing wind.

When she turned back Will was before her. He held out a hand and she took it, allowing him to help her down. They stood facing each other and Elizabeth wondered where it had all gone so wrong. Was it his desperate quest for his father? Was it her lies concerning Jack's death? Or had it been saving James that was the cause? If he had died would she and Will be as they were? Elizabeth could not say but it was not a course of action she would ever, ever wish to entertain.

"You love him," Will said blandly. When she didn't respond he added, "Norrington."

The clarification was unneeded but it was obvious that Will had to have an answer.

"I don't know." she replied, telling, she realized, the truth.

"And us?" he pressed on, frowning slightly and taking her other hand in his own. "Me?"

She hesitated, unsure as what to do, what to say. To declare she didn't love Will would be a lie, she would always love Will…but not the way she used to; not the fiery, passionate, all consuming love. Looking at him now the creature in her chest lay dormant, holding his hands, his skin against hers, did not make her heart race. She remembered her hand over James' chest, the pounding of his heart. She remembered that her own was keeping time with his.

"I don't know." she answered finally - less truthful this time.

He nodded; it was not what he had wanted to hear and she knew it.

"Alright," he said finally, "Alright."

He squeezed her hands and she returned the pressure, not wanting him to go and yet knowing there was nothing left for him to stay for. Then, slowly, he released her hands and stepped back, giving her one last lingering glance before moving to join the crowd of sailors bustling to and fro upon the deck.

Elizabeth sighed, closing her eyes for a moment before opening them and looking around. She found the figure she was looking for on the poop deck at the far most stern of the Pearl. He was looking out at the pirate fleet, evidently not noticing her which in her mind meant he had seen everything and was pretending he hadn't. Typical James; putting honour above emotion.

With a final glance towards the sky she filed away her heart and moved to climb the stairs and join him.

It was time to go to war.


	7. Maelstrom

Elizabeth came to stand beside James. His hands were on the rail, clenched tightly, the only sign of any turmoil on his part. She paused for a moment. There was no question of him knowing she was there. The question was how to have an entire conversation, such an important conversation, on the brink of war and without a moment to spare. The wind blew back in her face, distinctly cooler than it had been, and she closed her eyes, breathing in and out, savoring the moment of peace before the storm.

A droplet of water hit her cheek and she blinked, craning her head back to look up to the heavens. Another droplet bounced from her forehead, then another and another, the heavy grey sky threatening black and rain pouring down. She watched the clouds swirl and wondered whether this was Calypso's pain - the pain of her betrayal bearing down on them. Her tears soaking them to the bone.

Leveling her gaze back she focused on the horizon. On the ever nearing fleet which was hell bent on destroying them all. Taking another step forward, so that she was pressed against the railing, she reached forward and placed her hand over James'. She felt the bones in the back of his hand shift beneath her touch and saw him look to her from the corner of her eye.

"What are you doing?" he asked, a note of the bitterness from the days when he was a drunkard and swabbing the deck of the Pearl clearly audible. It was an armor she realized that now, a way to protect himself. A way to defend himself from her. He'd seen her with Will and now he was expecting rejection. And why shouldn't he? He'd endured it before at her hand.

She smiled slightly, a slight upturn of the corner of her mouth and turned her head to look him square in the eye. She remembered a time when she had asked him exactly the same question, in the brig of the Dutchman as he facilitated her escape. So in response she answered as he had.

"Choosing a side."

His eyes widened but before either of them could say anything more a cry came from the deck.

"MAELSTROM!"

Elizabeth's eyes shot forward to see the rapidly developing Maelstrom appear as if out of nothing. Her hand tightened involuntarily on James' before letting go and turning, her eyes seeking out the one man aboard she knew who could get them through it.

"Captain Barbossa!" she yelled, seeing him to the left of the poop deck and making a beeline, staggering to a stop beside him. "We need you at the helm."

He turned sharply and looked at her for a moment, saying nothing, before his eyes widened with a feral kind of glee and he announced jovially,

"Aye! That be true!"

Elizabeth couldn't help but let out a sharp laugh of relief as he seized the wheel and began bellowing orders; most of it unintelligible to her though, she thought, probably highly profane. Well she didn't give a damn; with Barbossa at the wheel they had the best chance possible of surviving.

"Dying is the day worth living for!" he yelled, spinning the wheel sharply and Elizabeth turned, looking back out across the length of the Pearl and to the Maelstrom, getting larger and deeper by the moment.

Will was leaning out over the edge of the Pearl, keeping a keen eye on the Dutchman.

"She's on our stern - and gaining!" he yelled pulling back almost immediately to resume his watch.

Elizabeth could hardly believe it when she came to a stop by Will, leaning past him to see he was right,

"They're going in?" she yelled in Will's ear.

"They're mostly mad and with the Dutchman they can weather it!" he yelled in return, adding with a hint of sarcasm, "Perhaps Jones thinks Calypso is on his side!"

She looked at him, seeing the determination in his eyes and pulled back, staggering across the sharply swaying deck towards Barbossa just as a cacophony of explosions erupted. The Dutchman had to have fired the triple barrels as a chunk disappeared from the top of the wheel and two men fell from the mast as a piece of it was shot away.

"Take us out!" she heard Will bellow, "Or they'll overbear us!"

"He's right!" yelled James, coming up on her side and calling out, Will looking up in surprise at the source of support, "They come alongside and there'll be nothing left of us!"

She looked up to him, hair soaking and plastered to his head, drenched through, and then turned back to Barbossa as he yelled his dissent.

"Nay! Further in! We'll cut across to faster waters!"

Elizabeth turned, grasping the edge of the poop deck and leaning down to those on the lower deck.

"Prepare to broadside!" she bellowed.

"Captain the guns!" she heard Gibbs yell distantly from below, "Bear a hand!"

She saw James and Will both stagger over to the starboard, their eyes firmly on the Dutchman. James had his hand in the air, palm flat, signing for them to hold.

"Hold!" she shouted down to Gibbs below.

"Aye!" he yelled back, shouting down the hatch to those manning the canons, "Wait until we're board and board!"

She turned again to watch James and Will, side by side, and suddenly there was a moment of quiet, the rain beating down, all hands silent as they waited with fear in their bellies and their hearts. And then the Dutchman was level and James' arm cut through the air, both him and Will shouting simultaneously,

"FIRE!"

"AYE, FIRE!" yelled Barbossa in approval.

"FIRE ALL!" she screamed down to Gibbs who repeated her command before she had finished it,

"FIRE!" he yelled, "FIRE ALL!"

The bellow of the canons was deafening, cutting through the yells of men, the drumming of rain, the thunder over head. In response the Dutchman lit up and a moment later there was the crash of canon balls impacting into the ship.

She staggered as right next to her a chunk of wood flew, missing her by feet. She saw Will, sprinting down the stairs and onto the lower deck, dodging between chunks of wood and metal and her heart leaped into her throat. Despite everything she still cared about him, still feared for him, and when he reached the other side she let out a breath of relief.

Her eyes scanned the deck but she couldn't see James. However before she could begin to panic a body pressed against her back and familiar hands came to rest next to hers on the remnants of the rail.

"They're going to board!" he yelled into her ear.

She turned and saw ropes swinging both to and from the Pearl; the ships were coming closer and closer in the Maelstrom and soon each ship would be flooded by enemies.

"I have to get aboard the Dutchman!" she shouted, turning so that she was facing him, his hands still on the rails penning her in.

"No!" he roared in answer.

"I have to! It's the only way to end this - we have to find the chest!"

He hesitated, eyes going back to the Dutchman and flickering to the men swarming onto the deck, the battle breaking out below.

"I'll go with you!"

"No!" she shouted, "No - I need you to protect the Pearl! If it goes badly we'll all need her to escape, if there's any escape to be had!"

He shook his head and she reached up, cupping each side of his face.

"I know I haven't earned it!" she yelled over the cacophony of the storm and the blood bath raging beyond, "But I need you to trust me!"

He locked his gaze with hers and for a long moment she thought he would say no. Then, finally he nodded, one slow movement, before stepping back and letting her free.

She paused for a moment, unsure as to what to do, what to say when this might be the last time she ever saw him. Suddenly he lurched forward, blade drawn and shoved her aside, impaling a fish like creature which had been about to attack her. Almost as soon as he pushed her she withdrew her own blade, running through another of Jones' crew which had been at James' back.

She turned and he looked over his shoulder, sword dripping with blood and clutched tightly in his hand, bellowing,

"GO!"

She looked to see more creatures swarming aboard the ship down on the lower deck and then turned back to him. His jacket was flapping in the gale, he was soaked to the skin and already there was a cut on his face. She thought, in that moment, that he was probably the most incredible thing she'd ever seen.

Without thought she strode towards him, pulled his head down towards her and kissed him, hard.

It took only a moment for him to respond, his arms to come around her and hold her so tightly it hurt, his lips to move against hers with the desperation of a final kiss. However this wasn't their first final kiss and while that one had been that of Commodore James Norrington this was a kiss that man could never give; of passion and love which burned like fire. Of the man who had, finally, after so long, won her heart.

She gasped against his lips as they both drew back, dragging air into their lungs. His eyes were bright as he looked at her and she could feel the creature in her chest howling out to stay with him. And yet she could not.

"I love you." she exclaimed, the revelation so new and shocking to her she could hardly believe that it was true. But it was, it was, so painfully and blatantly true.

The disbelief, the wild hope, on his face was something she wanted to stay and watch forever. Yet she couldn't stay; she had to find the chest.

"I have to go." she yelled, touching his cheek with a gentle hand. "I'll find you, when it's done, I'll come and find you."

He leaned forward and kissed her brow, saying just loud enough for her to hear,

"I love you, always…always."

Then he released her and with a final glance she turned and ran, fighting off all who would stop her as she battled her way to the nearest rope. Grasping hold of it she held on tight and, without looking back, Elizabeth jumped.


	8. Aboard the Dutchman

Elizabeth's feet touched the ground just as Davy Jones turned, facing her with his blade drawn, tentacles writhing grotesquely.

"Harridan!" he spat, "You'll see no mercy from me!"

"That's why I brought this!" she yelled, unsheathing her sword and starting forward, her blade meeting his with a clang of steel which was audible even above the storm and the battle raging on around them. He was strong but she managed to parry, yet a second blow had her slipping to the ground, turning just in time to raise her blade, holding him off so that she could roll out of the way and back onto her feet.

Yet Davy Jones was a warrior of many lifetimes so when he disarmed her she could only be surprised she had lasted so long. A blow to the head with the part of his arm which she thought was made of driftwood had her slamming back into the stairs leading to the poop deck, her head crashing against the wood behind her. Instantly the world darkened.

She could hear Jones laughing and tried to force herself to get up. However she couldn't, she couldn't, her head swam and her eyes would not open. Darkness was so inviting, rest was so inviting. And yet her promise to James rang in her heard,

_I'll find you, when it's done. I'll come and find you._

She had to get up. She couldn't leave him, not now, not now she had finally chosen him after all those years…and then she heard a thrust of metal and Jones' laughter increased in pitch.

"You missed!" he exclaimed gleefully.

Elizabeth forced her eyes open and made herself rise, touching her head gingerly and looking…only to find Jones advancing on Will. Of course, Will was aboard the Dutchman looking for the chest, looking for his father. And now Will had saved her. She took in a breath and looked for her sword, her eyes meeting his as he slammed against the rigging and fell to the ground.

"Ah!" Davy Jones said, catching the look which passed between them, "Love. A most dreadful bond…but one most easily severed."

He advanced on Will and Elizabeth searched desperately for her sword, seeing it nowhere and looking up to find, horrifyingly, Jones' blade was resting on Will's throat.

"Tell me, William Turner…do you fear death?"

"Do you?!"

Elizabeth's head whipped around and there was Jack; holding the heart in his hand with a knife pointed directly at it. Elizabeth smiled in relief, looking to Will and willing him to know it was going to be alright. He smiled in return; his face that of a man recently reprieved from a death sentence - which he was.

"Heady tonic, holding life and death in the palm of one's hand." Jack said, smiling triumphantly.

"You're a cruel man, Jack Sparrow." Jones said, spitting with fury at the realization of the weakened position he was in. Elizabeth's eyes strayed to the Pearl, beyond where Jack stood, and she prayed James and the crew could hold out, just a little longer. Just until Jack stabbed the heart.

"Cruel is a matter of perspective." Jack responded.

"Is it?" Jones asked.

Then he turned, in a motion so fast Elizabeth could hardly believe it was happening, and thrust his blade forward, spearing Will in the chest. Her body went cold with dread as Jones twisted his blade, Will crying out in pain beneath it, and then released it, uncaring, turning back to Jack.

"Will…" she breathed, crawling towards him and taking his hand in one of her own.

The sword was impaled straight through, anchoring him to the Dutchman, and she feared removing it would kill him. Behind she could hear Jones, laughing, and hatred so intense she could taste it flowed through her.

"Will," she tried again, touching her free hand to his face, "Come on, Will, stay with me, please…" she could feel tears brimming and told herself not to be weak. She had to be strong, for Will.

A sudden bellow behind them caused her to turn her head; one of Jones' crew had attacked him, leaping on him from behind. She would put good money on it being Bootstrap Bill - not such a lost cause after all.

"Elizabeth…" Will wheezed.

She turned her attention back to him.

"Eliza…Elizabeth." he said again.

"It's alright Will, you'll be alright, I'm here…" Will's eyes began to close and she released his hand, putting her free one to his face. This couldn't he happening, this couldn't be happening, "Will, stay awake! Look at me!"

Jack raced towards them, crouching at her side.

"Jack!" she exclaimed, hoping he would do something, anything.

He ignored her, placing the heart on the ground and the blade in Will's hand. She knew what he was going to do and while for a moment she considered telling him no another thought occurred, superseding the first. If Will became Captain of the Dutchman he could be with his father, always. He could know the man, as he had always wanted. What life was left to him on land? If he survived (a possibility so mad she could not believe she was considering it) he was still a pirate, hunted. Not that it mattered because he was dying, he was going to die…unless he stabbed the heart. And he did he would be alone, she thought, guilt pooling within her. That, most of all, stayed her hand. Because on the Dutchman he would never be alone and she could not take that away from him, would not take that.

"Help him." she said to Jack, seeing that Will's arm was too weak to raise the blade.

Jack nodded, carefully wrapping Will's hand around the hilt of the dagger.

"Hold onto it tight." she said to him desperately, hoping he could still hear her, "Don't let go!"

Whether he heard her or not she didn't know. But when Jack raised Will's arm and let it fall he held the blade long enough for it to pierce the heart. Elizabeth looked up, in time to see Jones freeze just as he was about to strike down Bootstrap Bill.

Jones turned, his face raised to the sky, before falling backwards over the railing and down, down, down into the Maelstrom which was waiting to devour him.

Elizabeth turned her eyes to Will to see that his own eyes were closed. After a moment she noticed his chest had stopped moving. A hand on his heart revealed the beat had stopped.

Will was gone.

"I'm so sorry." she breathed, leaning her forehead to his for a moment. For what she wasn't sure. For not loving him the way he needed her to in the end, perhaps. For not being the woman he had hoped she was. For loving someone else and choosing them, though that she could not regret, however sorry she was. For all the things unsaid and some of the things spoken too. For letting him die saving her.

"Goodbye, Will."

She looked up to see Jack looking fearfully behind her. Elizabeth turned to see the crew of the Dutchman converging, chanting in their monotone, lifeless voices,

"Part of the crew, part of the ship, part of the crew, part of the ship…"

"We need to get out of here." Jack said.

She nodded, standing and allowing Jack to pull her away, her eyes lingering on Will as long as possible, committing every feature to memory, going over them again and again, one by one. One thing she could promise was that she was never, ever going to forget William Turner.

Jack pulled together a canvas and some rigging and then grabbed his pistol.

"Hold on!" he yelled and she wrapped her arms tightly around him, losing sight of Will as the crew finally surrounded him completely.

Jack fired a shot and suddenly they were flying through the air, the device he had created capturing the wind beneath the canvas, propelling them up and over the Dutchman and far away from Will and the terrors that went on below.

As the Dutchman sunk beneath the waves Elizabeth hid her face against Jack's chest, eyes closed tight.

When they landed it was in the sea, the Pearl coming up on their right. She swam out towards it, looking along deck for the only face she could bear to see in that moment. She prayed in her heart she wouldn't have to lose another man whom she loved, sure she could not bear it if anything had happened to James as well. However it wasn't until she had boarded, climbing up the rope ladder and onto deck, that he appeared before her.

"Elizabeth…"

He murmured her name with reverence, like his own prayer had been answered. She rushed towards him, blind as the tears came, and he embraced her tightly, holding her close.

"Will…" she breathed out, and it was all she needed to say. His hand stroked her hair, gentle and rhythmic,

"I'm sorry," he said, sounding so genuine it made her heart hurt, "I am truly sorry, Elizabeth…"

"…the Armada's still out there," she dimly heard Gibbs pressing, "The Endeavor's coming up hard to starboard…I think it's time we embrace that oldest and noblest of pirate traditions…"

Elizabeth turned her head to look at Jack, waiting for his answer. After everything, after losing Will so cruelly, was he really about to turn tail and let Beckett escape?

"Never actually been one for tradition." Jack answered flatly.

Elizabeth took in a breath, looking up to James whose eyes were firmly on Jack. His brow was furrowed and Elizabeth looked out to where she thought the Dutchman had gone down, where Jack was now intent gazing. What was it Bootstrap had said, just before she and Jack had escaped?

_The ship must have a Captain. _

Could it mean…?

"What's he doing?" James asked, looking down at her.

She shook her head for a moment, almost unwilling to allow herself to fall into the incredulity of it all.

"I think…" she answered hesitantly, taking his hand in hers and pulling him with her to the port side of the ship, "That he's waiting for reinforcements."

"Close haul her!" Jack announced, cutting off any further chance for questioning, "Luff the sails and lay her in irons."

"Belay that!" called out Barbossa, "Or we'll be sitting ducks!"

"Belay that 'belay that'!" Jack retorted.

"But Cap-" began Gibbs.

"Belay!" Jack exclaimed.

"The Ende-" Gibbs tried again.

"Stow! Shut it!" Jack answered, before striding up onto the poop deck.

"Has he finally gone completely mad?" James asked.

"Not quite," she answered, looking out across the open expanse between them and Beckett's Armada, "Not yet."

The Endeavor came closer with every moment and Elizabeth felt doubt begin to creep in. Was Jack clutching at desperate hopes? Were they both so wishing for ill to be alive, or at least some form of alright, that they were being led to their deaths? She looked up to James, seeing his eyes fixed not on the horizon or the battle about to take place, not the enemy approaching, but on her. His hand reached out and twined a damp lock of her hair around his finger and she opened her mouth to tell him again, reassure him for what might be the final time that she hadn't had another change of heart, that this time she was fixed and would never again…

However suddenly their attention was ripped from one another as the sound of waves breaking and the accompanying cries from the crew of the Pearl rang out. They both turned in unison to see, surfacing from the depths of the ocean…

"The Dutchman?" James asked, puzzled.

"Will." Elizabeth answered, grinning widely.

"Ready on the guns!" came the call from the Dutchman.

"Full canvas!" Jack shouted to the crew of the Pearl in response.

Immediately everyone jumped into action, Barbossa shouting his agreement with a wild, terrifying grin firmly in place.

"Aye! Full canvas!"

Elizabeth went to the far starboard, watching them creep ever closer upon the Endeavor. James positioned himself by the hatch leading to below decks, hanging on the stairs, ready to relay orders. Jack stood at the centre of the head of the lower deck and Barbossa, taking the helm, steered them along side the Endeavor while the Dutchman did the same on her other side.

"Cap'n?" asked Gibbs in the quiet as everyone waited for orders.

Jack turned, a look of feral glee on his face, and said simply,

"Fire."

"FIRE ALL!" Elizabeth shouted, James echoing the sentiment from his position to those waiting to fire. Barbossa bellowed out the same with wild abandon from the helm while still holding them steady and smooth.

The canons fired and she saw the flashes from the Dutchman as it did the same.

Elizabeth watched with grim satisfaction as the Endeavor was ripped apart, the wood splintering and breaking, the cargo burning, the men leaping into the water, abandoning the ship at the first chance they got. She leaned over the rail as they passed it by, watching it burn, watching it sink down into the sea, never to be seen again. Cutler Beckett was gone. Her father's murder was avenged.

"She was a fine ship, once."

She turned to see James standing behind her, looking out to the charred remains of the Endeavor, floating atop the waves.

"Better though she be sunk than be tainted by the man who took her." he added, looking down at Elizabeth and sighing heavily.

She reached up, moving a strand of stray hair from his face. His hand captured her own, holding it gently and pressing a kiss to the backs of her fingers.

"Will you go to him?" he asked, no recrimination or anger in his voice, "To Turner?"

Elizabeth smiled softly, looking over to the Dutchman, seeing the shapes of the men aboard and her eyes finding the one at the helm whom she thought must be Will.

"He has a new destiny now," she answered softly, with a little sadness perhaps for what might have been, but no regret, "As do I."

She looked up at James and saw there finally the peace, the contentedness, she had not realized until that moment had been missing all along from his face. Reaching up on tiptoe she pressed her lips to his, so that when the call announcing that the Armada, rudderless without its leader and flagship, was retreating, the jubilant cries from her army of pirates barely registered.

"We won." James murmured against her lips.

She opened her eyes looking up at him with a smile.

"Yes," she answered, "We did."

* * *

**A/N: Just a quick note to say thank you for the kind comments I've received from you all. There's one more chapter to wrap things up after this one. **


	9. Yo ho, Yo ho

The sun was low when she met Will on the beach.

He was granted one day, just one, on dry land every ten years. Aboard the Pearl she had received a message, asking her to meet him just before that day's end. He did not specify why or what he expected but in her heart Elizabeth knew. However she showed his note, sent by Cotton's parrot of all things, to James before speaking her thoughts.

He read it through slowly, carefully, and then looked up at her from where he leaned against the railings on the deck of the Pearl. The Dutchman floated just beyond his right shoulder, almost as though Will were watching too, waiting for James' reaction. Which perhaps he was.

"He wishes to say goodbye." James deduced finally.

There was a pause, before he added softly,

"You should go."

Elizabeth kissed him long and hard after that and when she broke away, both to breathe and because the catcalls of the crew were becoming racier and racier, he followed up,

"If I were in Turner's place I pray he would give me the same chance. If he feels half of what I do for you it would be an act of kindness I would not forget."

James rowed her ashore and remained in the boat, a book in hand taken from Jack's cabin, a relic from the time Barbossa had led the Pearl. She had asked him to come, knowing if he had remained aboard the Pearl the self doubt which still haunted him would surface. Elizabeth felt, in her heart of hearts, that with no other man would James doubt her love for him. Not now. But then William Turner was not just some other man.

Yet when she had asked him to accompany her to the meeting point itself he had declined.

"He sacrificed much, for all of us - he deserves to see you, alone, one last time."

If James' grip on her hand was slow to release when she turned to go Elizabeth didn't comment on it. Though his fear was unfounded it was understandable. His trust was something she had to earn, just as he had regained hers after giving the chest to Beckett what seemed a lifetime ago.

Elizabeth found Will some way down the beach, not entirely out of view of James and the boat but far enough so that blurred figures were difficult to distinguish from rocks. He looked up when she approached and smiled, a sad smile which tugged at her heart.

"Elizabeth." he said.

"Will," she returned, stopping with two paces between them.

"You brought Norrington." he observed, nodding his head to the far distance, a smile playing on his face, not cruel but perhaps a little regretful.

She simply returned his smile.

He peered out towards the horizon, where already the sun was dipping low.

"It's almost sunset," he observed, holding out an arm, "Will you walk with me?"

She nodded, taking his arm and feeling a little surprise when he began steering her back towards where James and the boat waited.

"It will be ten years before I set foot ashore again," he said quietly, "And by then you will be long gone - married perhaps, with children. Living the life you choose, whatever that might be."

She listened, not interrupting his thoughts, wanting him to take this final chance to speak anything he wished.

"I would not deprive you of that, Elizabeth." he continued, "So unless fate intervenes I shall not seek you out again."

Her hand tightened involuntarily on his forearm, where it rested, but she held her silence.

"It is for the best, for us both."

They stopped not far from the boat and in it James, staunchly looking down at his book though she was sure he was aware of them. She reminded herself to thank him for that. Beyond the shore Elizabeth saw upon the horizon the Dutchman, waiting for its Captain to return. Will released her arm and bent down, touching a hand to the sand at their feet.

"I used to dream of the sea, of never stepping foot on dry land again," he mused quietly, almost to himself, "Now the choice is taken from me I find I may miss it."

"I'm sorry," Elizabeth said, almost as a knee jerk reaction.

He rose, brushing himself free of sand.

"What for?" he reached over and took her hands in his, in the same way he had when she told him, without telling him at all, that she had chosen James over him.

The action made her heart ache but she allowed it. She thought perhaps she might allow him anything, in that moment, with his eyes studying her face as though trying to memorize it - the same way she had when she had left his body upon the Dutchman.

"There is no fault here," he reassured her, "No blame. I'm glad in many ways. In others…perhaps not. Yet I do not regret my fate."

He released her hands then, moving behind her so she had to turn to watch him. He bent down, reaching behind a rock, and removed a chest. It was familiar, painfully familiar, and the steady thump coming from within made her own heart contract in sympathy.

"It was always yours," he said, holding it out to her, "Will you keep it safe for me?"

She looked at the chest for a long time before raising her eyes to his.

"Yes." she said finally, tremulously, "Of course I will."

He sighed what she thought was a breath of relief and placed the chest atop the rock, giving it a final, lingering look before turning back to her. His eyes slid past her shoulder and though the glow on his face, orange and red, told her as much his words confirmed it.

"The sun is almost set. My time runs short."

He reached out again and this time his hand found her face.

"Will you let me kiss you, Elizabeth?" he asked, his voice gentle, low, "One last time?"

She hesitated, thinking of James. Then she remembered his words - that to allow a person a final farewell with the one they loved was the greatest kindness that could be given, and she nodded.

He pressed his lips to hers and she responded gently. There was no passion there, though it was not a kiss of passion. It was a goodbye between two who loved each other with the ferocity of first love, long ago. Though there was still love between them it was different now, different to the creature James stirred in her chest and Will too had once awoken in the early days. This however was a kiss of farewell. A last goodbye.

When he pulled back her cheeks were damp and he ran a thumb over the tears, brushing them away.

"No more tears, not for me." he said firmly.

She could only nod.

"Goodbye, Elizabeth." he said evenly.

"Goodbye, Will." she murmured.

He nodded, searching her face one last time, before moving past her. She turned, watching his back as he walked towards the ocean. However before he stepped in her veered over, walking towards where James sat. For a moment her heart lurched, fearing what would happen, but almost instantly she quieted it. Will would not hurt James and there was no reason for James to hurt Will - not that it would do any good.

She watched as Will unsheathed his sword, offering it to James, who took it, before exchanging a few words. She smiled tightly as James leaned forward and shook Will's hand. Then, finally, Will turned back towards the waiting sea, walking in fully clothed and becoming submerged deeper and deeper until she could see him no longer.

James approached from the beach once Will was gone from sight and she felt him stand beside her. Elizabeth's eyes stayed trained on the horizon, watching the Dutchman become smaller and smaller. Then the sun sank low, out of sight, and in a flash of green light the Dutchman faded, and was gone.

"I kissed him." she said softly.

With the setting of the sun the breeze had become cooler and also stronger, becoming a wind which whipped her hair about her head.

"I know." James answered.

She looked to him, standing looking out just as she had been.

"A final kiss." she added, why she did not know.

He looked down to her, his expression without recrimination or anger.

"It was a comfort to him?"

She glanced back towards the horizon, rapidly darkening now the sun was gone.

"I think so."

"Good," was all that James said.

She remained quiet for a long time and so did he. When he finally moved, taking her hand in his own, she almost jumped at the unexpected contact.

"William Turner and I have much in common," he said evenly, drawing her eyes to him without trying, just by speaking capturing her attention, just by being there, "We have both loved you, both lost you and both of us have faced life without you. Turner I hope," he said wryly, "Will have more success than I did in that arena."

She smiled, though her heart wasn't really in it.

"I never wanted to hurt either of you."

He moved closer, taking her face in his hands.

"The past is done with," he said, "It is forgotten and just as I have forgiven you so have you forgiven me. The future lies ahead."

He turned her gently so that she could see, rounding the corner of the farthest cliff edge in sight, a ship, silhouetted in the growing dimness and yet with sails in unmistakable pitch black.

"In this past year I have realized that the lines between good and evil are often…blurred. Perhaps then it's time we tried to instil some morality into the profession of piracy," James mused.

This time her heart was in her smile, wholly and completely.

"I love you, James Norrington." she declared.

"And I you, your Majesty."

She grinned widely and reached up to kiss him, revelling in the way his lips caressed hers, reminding herself that they had the rest of their lives to live now, to do just this a hundred thousand times, to live whatever lives they chose.

It was when they were about to climb into the boat that she noticed the sword at his side and remembered Will's diversion. She had forgotten, so engrossed had she been in her own feelings and then in James; when he had lifted her guilt a little and given her the hope she knew in her heart she gave him, to ask,

"Why did Will give you his sword?"

James turned and smiling pulled out the blade.

"You don't recognize it?" he asked, "It's the same blade Turner forged for me, all those years ago, when I was made Commodore."

Elizabeth's eyes grew wide as she recognized the handle, the intricacies of the entwining metal. Though it was more battered, the blade scratched from heavy use, it was still in one piece and still apparently strong.

"How?" she asked, dumbfounded.

"Jones," was James' answer, "He took it when I left it aboard the Dutchman, when we escaped, and Captain Turner took possession of it when he took possession of the ship. He said…" James smiled more widely, shaking his head almost disbelievingly, "He said that he was giving it to me because the blade was made by a man who took great care and devotion in his work - and he would expect the man who wielded it to show that same care and devotion to every aspect of his life."

Elizabeth laughed, remembering the words James had spoken, long ago on the parapet in Port Royal, when he had accepted Elizabeth's choosing Will. Now she knew, without doubt, that Will had done the same and given them both his blessing. It was, she thought, the greatest gift he could have given.

James rowed them back to the Pearl and she sat opposite him, looking at the chest, knowing that she would ensure Will would live a long life at sea, helping people, being with his father - the life he had dreamed of, in truth, but never imagined. And next to the chest sat her own future, James, propelling them into the weeks, months and years that lay ahead, filled with possibilities.

"Yo-ho, yo-ho," she murmured, trailing her fingers through the water, a smile on her face.


End file.
